


The Golden Quintet

by MrToddWilkins



Series: A Tale of Lions,Badgers,Eagles,and Snakes [17]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Artistic License - Geography, Bea Haywood is in the Trio’s year, Calla Davis is Tracey’s mum, F/M, Fred is the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, Good Dolores Umbridge, Gryffindor Bea Haywood, Gryffindor Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor Penny Haywood, Gryffindor Tracey Davis, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Hufflepuff Ron Weasley, Inspired by Looking Beyond, Jason is a priest of the Church of England, Lily Evans Potter Lives, Oliver Wood and Katie Bell are in the Trio’s year, Penny is in Fred and George’s year, Religious Discussion, Sirius Black Never Went to Azkaban
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2020-04-23 20:32:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrToddWilkins/pseuds/MrToddWilkins
Summary: What if one of the most unlikely individuals,with the help of Lily Potter, raised Harry Potter? An AU of the ATLBES series.Books:Harry Potter and the Happier Childhood (Chapters 1-?)Harry Potter and the Stone of Immortality (ChaptersHarry Potter and the Serpent’s Heir (ChaptersHarry Potter and the Cry of Justice (ChaptersHarry Potter and the Triwizard Tournament (ChaptersHarry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix (ChaptersHarry Potter and the Shadows of War (ChaptersHarry Potter and the Peverell Quest (ChaptersLavender Potter and the Eventful Pregnancy (Chapters





	The Golden Quintet

_November 1,1981_

The city of Bournemouth and the city of Eastbourne have long been regarded as neighbors,both geographically and culturally. Situated next to each other on the southern coast of England,the two cities could essentially be just one city. In the summer it is the American tourists who flock to them in spades,and in the wintertime people who don’t like the cold winters in the north. The beaches are regarded by some as the sandiest in England.

Of course,any great city must have its suburbs. One of these for Bournemouth  is Broadstone,located some miles to the northwest between Bournemouth proper,Eastbourne,and Poole.  The Broadway is usually the place to be in Broadstone,with its busy shops catering to the tourist trade since the days of William IV. There is also the grave of Alfred Russel Wallace,for those with a scientific bent. And nearby there is a beach where a derelict German U-boat washed up in August 1946.

In a leafy,bucolic neighborhood not far from the town center is the church of Sts.Peter and Paul. Built in 1795,the church has an attractive Georgian feel to it. Its belfry is made all of beaten copper. Its pews are made of Burgundian wood. The attractive old lectern is painted with scenes of the lives of its patron saints and of St.George. Next to this church is the Two Trees,the local inn. It was built in 1880 to accommodate the tourist trade,and its style is more colonial. 

The proprietor of both establishments was Jason Rosier (Ravenclaw ‘75),a proud man with a beak-like (but not unattractive) nose,short auburn hair,calm blue eyes,and a bespoken personality. Today,he felt uneasy. Clearly _something_ had happened overnight,but _what?  
  
_

Voices drifted from the hedgerows nearby.

  
"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." A tall woman who was just a silhouette sniffed angrily.

  
"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently.

  
"You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no -- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on the news. Flocks of owls... shooting stars.... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent -- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

  
"You can't blame them," said a man gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for quite a long time."

  
"I know that,Albus" said the woman irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

As Jason approached they became clearer.

Professors?”

”Mr.Rosier! I had no idea you lived here! You should’ve told the Order!”

”I didn’t want _his_ people finding out about me.”

We’re expecting Hagrid shortly. He’s with Lily and Harry Potter,and Sirius Black.”

”Is it true?”

”About James,yes. They were betrayed.”

”By who?”

The man,who was Albus Dumbledore himself,spoke.

“I suspect Lucius Malfoy’s hand in this,pretending to have abandoned the Dark Lord. He’ll probably get some years in Azkaban Prison. My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense -- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort. " Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who. ' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name. "  
  


He might have said more,but a flying motorcycle chose that moment to appear. On it was a man as big as a mountain,with a beard as long to match. Clutching his back were a red-headed woman and a long-haired young man. The woman had a baby boy propped loosely on her shoulder. She got off and ran to Jason,who hugged her.

”Jason Rosier,it’s been an age,I do declare!”  
  


Dumbledore cleared his throat softly. “These people of Broadstone will never understand him,Jason. He'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future -- there will be books written about Harry -- every child in our world will know his name! But take Lily,Harry,and Sirius in,if you will.”

”Rightly,sir.”

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges,which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. The arms of his mother closed around him and he slept on. He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter -- the boy who lived!"

 


End file.
